


Unbind Me

by Syan_Mythros



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Best Dumpster Ever, M/M, Not super graphic violence but still more than some might like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 21:16:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6394177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syan_Mythros/pseuds/Syan_Mythros
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off an RP prompt from tumblr it sparked from a simple answer into eight pages of ficlet.  "When The Brotherhood of the True Faith seeks to stir trouble to get to Aymeric they find themselves with a bit of a problem on their hands in the form of his ever protective lover."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbind Me

A commotion had risen in the Brume. Aymeric had dispatched knights only to have one return haggard and out of breath to report that more help was needed. The dravanian horde would have once been the cause for such alarm and a call to arms however no longer. Though Nidhogg and his brood were still a threat looming over now there was another valid threat. This one came from inside Ishgard itself. The Brotherhood of the True Faith was opposed to making peace with the dragons, opposed to Aymeric leading their country forward and crying for his blood if not his head to be spilt and set forth as an example, the charge patricide. Something had erupted in the Brume between protesters and paupers and kept escalating. Aymeric heaved a sigh as the latest report came in and another unit was dispatched to try and assist. The knights sent had made some headway however it was not only exhausting physically but emotionally to fight your own friends and countrymen that happened to be standing on the other ‘side of the line.’ At his side Zephirin stood, green eyes full of hidden concern. Something about the whole thing didn’t sit right with him. Things had been peaceful lately, this was the first large scale and certainly most violent altercation in quite some time with the brotherhood. To him it almost felt as if they were calling out Aymeric personally and he’d vowed to not leave his lover’s side. Lucia and Handeloup were both already out assisting as best they could with the situation and so that left Zephirin and a handful of knights there with Aymeric.

“I know not what more can be done,” Aymeric sighed as he reread the reports, “It seems no matter who we send this situation refuses to be resolved.”

Zephirin clenched his fist as he bitterly voiced his opinion, “It would seem as if they are attempting to draw you out into the fray.”

Aymeric opened his mouth to reply and before he could Zephirin narrowed his green eyes and glared, “No.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” he continued, “And you are not going out there and giving them what they want. I know not for certain if that is their plan but I will not see it succeed as I will not see harm come to you at their hands.”

“Zephirin, I..” Aymeric started before he gave a slight dip of his head, “I understand you quite well truly I do, but something must needs be done.”

“You aren’t going,” Zephirin repeated firmly, “Lucia and Handeloup are there with how many contingents of knights. Surely in time they will be able to make headway without throwing you into needless danger.”

“I’m not someone who needs to be protected in such a fashion,” Aymeric bit back as he felt a bit of irritation rise up. A part of him understood Zephirin’s concerns and another part bristled slightly at the notion that he was incapable of protecting himself.

Zephirin sighed and shook his head, “That wasn’t entirely what I meant. They are devious and will likely have some assassin on high to take you out at the first opportunity during the fray. Or someone slipping through the chaos to stab you. There are too many factors at play here for you to risk yourself in such a fashion. Send more knights if you must but you yourself are not going.”

“Very well,” Aymeric ground out shortly before he crossed his arms, “In my stead I will send you. You shall go and help Lucia and Handeloup bring about and maintain the peace in my stead.”

Zephirin’s eyes widened and he stared in disbelief at Aymeric. If he left no one but a handful of regular knights would be there to protect the congregation and Aymeric. His fist clenched again as he argued, “That’s absurd. You’d leave yourself and the congregation with so few to guard it, only yourself and a handful of knights.”

“You tell me I cannot go to aid my people for mine own safety,” Aymeric countered, voice steely, “Then I will send my best knight in my stead because surely he will succeed where others have proven ineffective.”

Zephirin’s jaw clenched at Aymeric’s words. His tone made it clear there was to be little to no argument on the matter and Zephirin felt as if he’d been cornered. He could not refuse or decline and yet he did not want to leave Aymeric alone. A strange feeling of hopelessness hit him before he gave a sigh, “What would you have me do?”

The words were quiet, tone bland and for a moment Aymeric wondered if perhaps he had made a wrong choice in this. No, he reassured himself, sometimes as commander he had to make decisions others didn’t like for the good of all. He only hoped Zephirin could forgive him once this was all said and done. Quickly Aymeric outlined the basics to Zephirin though the man was already well apprised on the situation. With a stiff formal nod and salute he stalked from the congregation. Aymeric heaved a sigh after he left, letting himself sink into the chair behind his desk. Questions assailed him, as they did during every battle though these ones hit with a different kind of sting as well. He shook his head slightly, Zephirin he knew could take care of himself and he would be all right here to his great annoyance, safely enclosed in the congregation. The thought of how he could make amends somehow through a small token to Zephirin had just crossed his mind when the doors to his office slammed open. 

“What is it? What’s happened?”

The words were free from his mouth before he’d even fully stood again, before blue eyes had realized that the men storming into his office were not his knights at all. No, the men storming in, weapons and chains at the ready were from the Brotherhood of the True Faith. Their grins turned wider as they noticed the lack of any guard. Neither his first nor second in command were there nor was the other guard dog he’d acquired lately. Oh they were well aware of the blonde and who he claimed to be. Rumors had spread quite quickly, though slightly longer hair and the absence of the traditional garb had made it a bit harder quite a few were convinced he was either a very close impersonator for the ‘late’ Lord Commander of the Heavens’ Ward or somehow the man himself had defied death. The latter of the two rumors had deterred several from attempting anything against Aymeric. Few wanted to cross blades with a man who had likely defied a god and survived death at the hands of the Warrior of Light.

“You’re coming with us murderer,” the one growled out as he moved closer to Aymeric, chains in hand. Aymeric reached for the sword at his hip before the man laughed, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Otherwise the three knights we found out guarding your door are going to be sent to Halone’s halls before you can blink.”

Aymeric paused, so many thing swirling through his mind. He only ever had one guard, why were there three. Zephirin he realized must have ordered two more to watch his door in his absence. However that still left the problem of how to play this hand he’d been dealt. A part of Aymeric suddenly wished that he had not sent Zephirin away out of spite. Surely the blonde would have carved these men apart with words and weapon long before they put anyone inside the congregation in danger had he been here. Aymeric frowned and raised his hands in a surrendering position.

“No harm befalls them,” he demanded as he let the man closer to him, “That is the terms of my surrender to you.”

“O’course not,” the man barked as he made it to Aymeric and began binding his arms while another removed his sword, “Misguided by you though they may be they’re at least not bloody murderers guilty of patricide.”

The chains were tight and painful against his gloved arms, the leather doing little to help surprisingly. Three frightened knights who were bound and gagged themselves watched Aymeric get led away encircled by the Brotherhood, hearts heavy with worry for their commander.

 

The blonde stalked in through the doors, Lucia and Handeloup behind him. Some of the knights filtered in while others aided the wounded back. At least three bells had passed and finally the chaos had been subdued. Knights and their captains in better shape had stayed with the aid of Hilda’s men to help keep things calm while the others went to report to Aymeric. The sight that greeted them however was far from pleasant. Three knights bound to wooden chairs, gagged and frantically trying to speak. The story poured forth as soon as they were released and Lucia glanced to her side warily. Zephirin stood fists clenched, eyes stormy as he spat out the one worded question on her mind as well, “Where?”

Handeloup made a motion to step forward and say something but Lucia placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a look that clearly said this was not the time or place and to leave it. He looked at her confusedly for a moment til he too gazed at Zephirin. The blonde was exuding a foreboding aura and Handeloup gave a small gulp. Lucia shook her head ever so slightly and he took the hint. 

“They likely have set up at the Vault,” she offered quietly, “That seems to be their base from all past accounts and intelligence gathered.”

She wasn’t sure how he would take the news. That he avoided the Vault was no great secret. It held memories both good and bad for him and as such since his return he’d taken up residence at the congregation, his things recovered from his quarters at the Vault not long after his return. The first day she’d had to go to Aymeric before he was out of his quarters because of a situation she’d been quite surprised to see Zephirin toweling his hair dry half dressed while Aymeric was not far away pulling his sabatons on, hair damp as well.

Zephirin’s jaw clenched and he gave a stiff nod before pivoting and stalking away, the cloth at the bottom of his armor fluttering behind him in an ominous fashion. Lucia shook her head again as they all watched him go. 

“I do not envy those that cross him this day,” she murmured as the congregation doors slammed shut. The others looked at her and she could see the agreement there on their faces as well as the worry for Aymeric, and the hope that Zephirin could bring him back.

Not soon enough for once he found himself at the Vault’s large doors. No guards were outside, though he suspected that was to help prevent anyone from knowing what they were up to. He stalked inside, the entryway clear of people as well. He knew the building like the back of his hand. He’d spent how much time here after all. There were two options for where Aymeric was likely held and he paused in his movements to listen. A noise from the one hallway caught his attention and he turned his head to see a man ducking back and away, around the corner. Without warning Zephirin tore after the man and easily overcame him.

“Where is he?”

The question was growled out as Zephirin held him up against a wall, his armored fist tightened around the man’s neck. His captive seemed reticent at first til with practiced ease Zephirin’s hand slid to his sword.

“Where is he or do I start taking you apart piece by piece til you scream the information with your last dying breath,” he asked again his aura dark, and menacing.

“P-pl-please ser,” the man begged and Zephirin’s hand gripped the handle of his weapon before starting to lift it from his back, “Below, the lower cellblock for high profile targets.”

Zephirin paused as if struck for a moment, that was where he’d been before. When Thordan had him arrested that was where he’d been put as it kept him secret and away from the other prisoners.

“Your help has been invaluable,” the blonde murmured darkly, before moving his hand down to pull a dagger that had been hidden on the man’s back out and ramming it into him, “Should you get aid in a timely fashion you might live to see another day. However if he does not draw breath when I get to him I can assure you it’s in your best interest to be the same when I come back.”

He dropped the man in a heap of blood and misery before stalking off, winding his way through the halls and handling the guards that obstructed him. It seemed that there were far less than he expected and that concerned him. Either he was being led astray or there was some greater trap waiting for him. Green eyes narrowed and a vow to the Fury left him that if any harm had befallen Aymeric he would dismantle the men piece by piece before sending them to her judgement. A closed door stood before him soon enough and he almost hesitated as memories crept up. Memories of coming here once before. Memories of Aymeric chained inside. Perhaps that was part of their trap, he mused as he strode to the door and with a quick motion unsheathed his sword. If they thought to make him falter they would soon learn the folly of that plan. A booted foot drove him near tearing the door from it’s hinges and sounds of shock reached his ears from inside. Larger cells than the other areas lined the hallway, numbering six in total. Men milled around, now alert and glaring at him with anger.

“Get him,” a man shouted and Zephirin blocked the blow aimed at him. He was going to avoid killing them if he could. Somehow he suspected Aymeric would not be pleased if he slaughtered them. That plan flew to the side however as a grunt of pain after the sound of something hitting flesh reached him. He knew that voice. He didn’t know what had happened but he knew that voice. A rage filled him, green eyes taking on a dark light as he shifted quickly before pivoting his foot and driving the large two handed sword clean through his attacker’s chest. Blood sprayed as a startled gurking sound tore from the man now pierced clean through.

“You will all pay,” he whispered, voice dark and quiet and laced with steel, “None shall suffer as much as those who have touched him personally though.”

A quick motion ripped the sword from the man’s insides. He fell with a wet thunk and the men who had watched in horror rushed at Zephirin now, weapons ready. Quickly, as if a machine he cut through them, one after another. More sounds reached his ears from the farthest cell and each one drove him into a greater fury. One louder grunt followed by a thud, as if knees hitting stone reached him and he growled out, “AYMERIC!”

Heads poked from the cell and more men rushed him, only to meet their end. By now white armor was painted crimson as it dripped from him, from his hair from his face. His eyes a near glowing green as he stalked forward, an angel of death to grant the Fury’s judgement upon those seen unworthy in his eyes. Finally he reached the cell proper. Three men circled a kneeling and bloodied Aymeric. His armor torn, bruises and blood on his face as he weakly looked up from his chained position.

“Zephirin?” He breathed, a question and a plea all in one. He seemed to almost be disbelieving that the blonde was truly there and Zephirin growled lowly.

“Which one?” He bit out, the question short and to the point as his gaze shot around to the three men facing off against him. One was clearly better dressed in clerical garb than the other two but Zephirin wanted confirmation. 

“Which one?” Aymeric parroted, confused for a moment til the better dressed one behind him kicked him in the back again, forcing him bent over more.

“Don’t stand there, kill him,” the man ordered as the other two gave an almost nervous look between their compatriot and Zephirin. After a moment it seemed they realized that no matter what their lives were forfeit and blindly rushed forward. Two swings of his sword was all it took to dispatch them, leaving the man behind Aymeric sputtering with rage and fear.

“You’re the man in charge then.”

It was a quiet, steel toned sentence. Not even a question, or an accusation. More a statement of fact as Zephirin took two steps forward, one booted foot kicking a corpse out of his path.

“You’ll all pay for this, I’ll ensure you both pay,” he yelled frantically as he backed up a step, fear starting to overtake his bravado, “I won’t yield to you.”

He became more erratic then, waving the dagger he’d drawn in Zephirin’s direction as he stumbled to the side and out of the direct path of Aymeric. A predatory gleam crossed Zephirin’s lips as he dashed forward, closing the distance in mere seconds. The breeze he kicked up rustled Aymeric’s hair and clothes as the Lord Commander turned his head just in time for blue eyes to see Zephirin slam the man forcibly into the wall. The dagger was thrust at him and went into his arm slightly before Zephirin smashed his sword in, removing the man’s left leg in one thrust. A strangled cry tore from the man’s mouth and his hold on the dagger faltered. 

“Wait… please,” he begged, realizing his life was close to over, “I beg you.”

“Silence,” Zephirin spat out, his arm shoving the man against the wall roughly. The robed man hung limp as a rag doll in Zephirin’s grasp, fear completely overtaking him. A damp spot, not from the severed leg appeared at the front of his robe and Zephirin’s lip curled in disgust.

“Your life will be yours until I personally wring any and all information of use from you,” he explained, voice steely, “Then.. when you have outlived your usefulness you will become an example to your brethren.”

“But you.. You can’t,” the man sputtered shock and fear raising his voice to high panic filled tones.

“I can,” Zephirin promised, “And I will. For every hand you laid on him. For every bruise I must mend. For every cut or scratch… Halone have mercy on you because I will not.”

There was a frightening seriousness to the vow and the captive man could only squeak in fright before Zephirin slammed him again against the wall. With him unconscious the blonde turned to see bruised and swollen blue eyes staring at him. He imagined he looked quite the sight. Blood dried and still wet covered him, his sword in hand coated in it.

“Zephirin,” Aymeric murmured, not sure what to say at the moment entirely, “I…”

“I told you it was dangerous,” he bit out as he returned his sword to his back before pulling the dagger from his arm and throwing it aside, “I told you to let them handle it.”

Aymeric looked down slightly, feeling a rush of shame. Zephirin had been right, it was a trap, though to lure who out he wasn’t sure. He looked back up to see the blonde making his way over, keys retrieved from the unconscious man in hand.

“You sent me out there. You left yourself unguarded save three knights,” Zephirin continued, his tone rising with irritation at each word. Quickly he made to start working on the locks, keeping his face turned away from Aymeric and the dark haired man could only surmise that Zephirin was livid with him. A rumbling sigh shook the blonde’s blood soaked form before finally he finished the last lock to release the chains.

“You sent me away and I couldn’t protect you,” Zephirin whispered, pain lancing through his tone, “I failed you.” 

The keys were thrown away then, harshly at the wall. Zephirin stayed knelt down, face away from Aymeric, fists clenched as he knelt. Carefully due to his wounds Aymeric shifted and faced the other man.

“Zephirin, I’m sorry.. I…” he trailed off, not sure what to even say.

“Do you have any idea how worried I was?” Zephirin whispered, finally turning to look at Aymeric’s bruised and battered face. The blonde looked as if he’d been through hell, and not from the mass slaughter he’d just engaged in.

“If something were to happen to you I would lose myself again,” he whispered quietly, green eyes full of a myriad of emotions.

Aymeric felt his heart drop at the look in Zephirin’s eyes. He knew Zephirin feared losing himself again. The only thing the man seemed to fear more was losing Aymeric. He bowed his head and placed a hand gently on Zephirin’s one fisted one.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and gave a gentle squeeze, “You didn’t fail me. At all.”

Zephirin merely stared at him for a moment before he moved to stand after giving Aymeric one small dip of his head, “Let’s go home. We’ll send your helpers to collect him before he bleeds out. I did mean what I said to warn you. I will have answers from him and he will pay.”

Inside he still felt the swirl of emotions. The dread and fear. The panic and nervousness that something had happened to him. The irritation that he had sent him away and this had happened. As well as the feeling that he had failed Aymeric. He should have stayed, disobeyed the order to go. He wasn’t truly a ‘knight’ anymore under anyone’s jurisdiction. Yet he could not deny Aymeric when the man had ordered. He wished desperately he had. He also knew it likely Aymeric would not approve of his course of action however he’d seen it as a threat to Ishgard. A threat that needed quelled. If someone had to be the villain better him than Aymeric.


End file.
